Woken from a Dream by an Angel
by Psycho Ferret1
Summary: NOT EVEN CLOSE TO BEING DONE! Teaser! Do you want me to continue or not? ZxK yaoi story. Eventually explicit


Brought from a Dream by an Angel  
  
The fire… the pain. His breath was constricting. The vines were tight around him. Suffocating him. Crushing his bones and squeezing the life out of him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move… he couldn't even scream.  
  
No one will hear you scream when your life ends, Kuja…  
  
Those words… spoken by that loathsome man… Garland, his creator. And now, the man's prediction was coming true.  
  
Gaia! Oh it hurts… such… exquisite pain! How… why?  
  
A shadow above him. His imagination? His vision was blurring, mind fogging. His breath was short… slowing. Peaches and cream eyelids painted rose fluttered closed.  
  
Let the darkness overcome me… enough! I have suffered.  
  
The burden was becoming lighter… less harsh and heavy.  
  
Is this what it feels to die? To stop?  
  
And then… something pressing against his lips, breathing life into him.  
  
Lilac eyes shooting open to catch fuzzy glimpses of his savior. Thick, sandy blonde locks falling in his face, blue eyes not unlike his own gazing down at him. A hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.  
  
"Kuja? Hey Kuja, are you okay?"  
  
Brought from the dream with a gentle shake. His head lolled against the fluffy, white pillow, splaying amethyst locks of silk against the smooth cloth. Pale lids lifting to uncover dilated, unfocused eyes. His breath was coming fast and hard, frail chest raising and falling in harsh, unnatural movements.  
  
"Kuja! Snap out of it!" Smooth fingers were now grasping his nude shoulders in desperation.  
  
"Living…? How…?" Spoken low and soft… wonderingly. In a single breath, said he this, slowly his eyes focusing and clearing.  
  
"Christ, Kuja! You scared the shit out of me!"  
  
"How… am I still here…? And… where am I?"  
  
------------ ------------- -------------- ------------- -------- ----- ------------  
  
Five years now, and still, no one but Zidane and Vivi know I am alive. Five years since my downfall… and the death of my creator, Garland. Five years since my close encounter with the clawed hand of death.  
  
Five years ago, I was brought from a constant dream by an angel.  
  
And yet, here I am, still the Angel of Death.  
  
I don't know why these two men actually care what happens to me. After all, I did not care of their fate. Perhaps… that is what makes them heroes.  
  
This, I cannot comprehend.  
  
Here, one of them comes around the corner, only to find me perched on the windowsill, staring out the clear window onto the city below. My eyes, I've been told, are sad now, haunted by some ghost they cannot see. I cannot bring myself to look.  
  
I know that in me, is Garland. Still, the hatred and power boils within me just as it always did in him. The urge to control, to play God in a sense. Even still, in a time of peace, war rages within me. But I have found sanctuary in Vivi. The "Little One" as I call him now. He and I… are the same.  
  
I... don't know... I don't know what I'm trying to prove... to myself or anyone else. I don't know most of these... emotions swirling inside of me, and so I do not know if I hate, or even loathe him and the others. It seems that I, along with my... black mages, am a soulless puppet... controlled by some outside source and not of my own will. Garland, the one who gave me the powers I have, once told me... told me that I am his. Then… then I hadn't understood the true meaning... but now... I see that he was right. I am but a spiritless shell infused with enough magic to do what I have done, and yet... not enough to even call me Human... alive. Before, I spoke of life being a play and now I see the bitter reality. It was not Vivi and his friends that were playing the parts soullessly... it was my own self. Bitter, biting irony, isn't it? I boast of power, and yet it is not my own power that I possess. I am… I am weak... and pathetic.  
  
I do not glance at the one who enters. Soft, booted footsteps stopping a few feet from me. I can hear the soft chink of something. Silverware on china, perhaps. I continue to stare out the window silently, horrid thoughts raping my mind of what sanity there is left.  
  
"K-Kuja?" Ah. Vivi. His voice is soft, and somewhat meek, as usual. Perhaps he still fears me a little. He should. I become more and more dangerous every day… to myself, and those two that take care of me in my unstable state. However, I do not let them know my mind is shattering, crumbling into nothing. Yes. Garland is still within me.  
  
In response to his speech, I turn my head to look at him, pallid face drawn into the look of calm I keep now.  
  
"Um… we thought… you… you might be hungry." In his small, gloved hands he holds a tray with a bowl of some sort of soup, and a spoon. Beside me rests a full glass of ice water given to me hours ago.  
  
"Thank you." None of my insanity seeps into my spoken words, I have made sure to keep myself from doing that. He sets the tray down gently as I glance back out the window, eyeing me with his wide, yellow glowing eyes. I have set upon this stone for hours now, not moving, staring out this very window. He shuffles his feet nervously.  
  
"Um… Kuja?"  
  
"Yes?" I speak softly, in a voice that sounds haunted to my own ears.  
  
"Why… why don't you come down and talk to us? Why do you… um… why do you stay up here all day?" Should I tell him? Should I tell him I lock myself in here to save he and Zidane from this madness that infects me? No… I cannot tell him the truth. Not the whole truth, anyway.  
  
"I do not belong."  
  
1  
  
2 Demon…  
  
Monster…  
  
You killed her… so many…  
  
This is your punishment…  
  
For what?  
  
For your sin…  
  
"What… what do you mean?" He's gaining up more courage.  
  
"Exactly what I said. I don't belong."  
  
"Oh." Spoken softly, wonderingly. He does not understand.  
  
"There are many reasons that I cannot speak of, Little One. Or ones I do not dare to speak of." Ah, there. I show my true self. The coward.  
  
"Um…" He scuffs the ground with his boot gently. I know what he's wondering.  
  
"Will I go down with you and spend time with you and Zidane?"  
  
"H-how did you…"  
  
"Yes, I suppose I will." Swiftly, I stood in a swirl of silver and lilac, gracefully sweeping locks of my snowy white hair over my shoulders. It was reaction, I couldn't help it.  
  
And suddenly I felt cold. Not physically cold, really, but a sort of… chilling cold that all of a sudden leaked into my bones, nearly sending me crashing to the ground in weakness.  
  
Or so it seemed to me. Nothing changed in my outward demeanor, or if it did, Vivi made no note of it. I stood straight, shapely legs slightly parted from each other. I nodded to the boy, signaling I was ready.  
  
The trek down the stairs was the most laboring trip I had ever taken. Not only were there seemingly millions of stairs, but also I tended to assault myself, as usual, with those daunting thoughts of self-hatred. Before, I mentioned how pathetic I am. You don't know the just of it. At least I'll work off the calories.  
  
And then suddenly, I stepped off the last stair and was greeted by an enthusiastic Zidane.  
  
"So Vivi convinced you to come down, eh? Good!"  
  
His cheerfulness made me want to hurl. The thing that stopped me was the realization that it would ruin my appearance. My lipstick would surely smear.  
  
I would put on a show for him, though. A smile would flicker on my lips.  
  
"You can stare at a wall for only so long before your heart gets restless." Heart? I'd meant mind. I have no heart, the cold bastard that I am.  
  
The sarcastic tone was lost on him, I suppose.  
  
Am I bitter? Yes. Am I guilty? Hell yes. Do I frequently reminisce about my days of blowing things up? Er… not usually. It's rather depressing.  
  
All that time alone had gotten me thinking though.  
  
Thinking that I loved Zidane.  
  
Yes, the flaming faggot of a man named Kuja has finally announced that indeed rumor and suspicion has proved to be true. He is gay. Not only gay, but lusting after a man who most likely has not had a single fleeting thought of ever being with me, and is obviously happily loving that bitch of a queen, Garnet.  
  
Forgive me. She was not the manipulated bitch, that was my role.  
  
Am I too hard on myself? Er… no, not really. At least I don't think so, anyway.  
  
And although I hadn't really thought I'd enjoy the time with these two, I did feel relieved that they at least accepted me enough to hang around me. A plus, I'd say. At least I could stare and fantasize about my heart's desire, mm?  
  
Oh damn, there I go again. Ranting about my heart and such. I need to remember I don't have a heart.  
  
I don't deserve Zidane anyway. How could he ever love someone like myself? I tried to kill him. Several times. He has no reason to care about me.  
  
Faintly, I hear him offer some tea or something to me.  
  
"No, I'm alright." I glance at him, and I feel my nerves go on end. That cold feeling overwhelms me again.  
  
Fascination bordering on obsession? Er… I can dream can't I?  
  
"So… what have you been doing up there this entire time?"  
  
"Staring out the window, thinking…" blaming myself for every little thing that went wrong since I was created.  
  
"Thinking about what?"  
  
How did I know he was going to ask that?  
  
You I want to tell him. I've been thinking about you, and how much I love you. But I can't, I'm a coward. For all my self-hatred, I still fear rejection from him. Perhaps from the Little One as well.  
  
"Oh, depressing matters… nothing to worry about." Inwardly, I cringe. I so hadn't meant to say that.  
  
He quirks a brow at me. "What do you mean, 'depressing matters.'"  
  
Vivi decided that that moment was a good time to excuse himself to go elsewhere. Bless his childish heart.  
  
"Er… nothing."  
  
"Kuja… I'm not going to let this go. Something's bothering you, and I'm offering to listen. I didn't drag you out of that damn tree just so you could mope and waste away in guilt or whatever it is you're moping about. So spit it out. I'm listening, and I'll do my best to help."  
  
He's being so open so… cute. Urgh, what am I thinking? I used to be on top of the world… the most powerful, and now I've been diminished into a man moping about his love interest.  
  
I'm pathetic. It's not the first time I've said it, and it won't be the last.  
  
Fine. If he wants to hear the truth, let him hear it.  
  
I turn away from him and lean against the balcony railing, staring down. "You know… I put you and your friends through a lot. I sit up there and look back at it constantly. And I realized that I was no better than Garland."  
  
"Kuja! You're a-"  
  
"You said you'd listen to me. Just hear me out. Now I say I'm no better than Garland because I was so blinded by my one goal that I was simple minded. I was Garland's puppet. And I had no idea that he was up there, laughing the entire time. Created… I was created to destroy mindlessly like a little doll. And to successfully do it was child's play. All he had to do was be so cruel… so… disgusting that I would vow to be as unlike him as possible. To break free of the chains that bound me and to do my own bidding. And still, even then… I was his puppet." I can feel the tears begin to form. No, I can't break down… not in front of him.  
  
"Kuja…" His voice is toned down. He's speaking softly, barely above a whisper.  
  
"He used to always taunt me. Make me think I'd broken free of him, and then he'd reach out his hand and pull me back to him, even if I didn't want to go. And when I would fight back, he would do… horrible things. He would hit me… constantly… and…" I feel his hand on my shoulder. I know he can hear the tremble in my voice. "…and he would ravish me. Just to make sure I knew that I couldn't get away from him. To make sure I knew that I belonged to him and that I was nothing more than a puppet." I can't stop the tears, not anymore. I've held them back too long and now they're rushing out like a torrent. My shoulders shake as my body is racked by sobs.  
  
And then I feel arms wrap around me, turning me to face his chest. He's holding me. Comforting me. Oh the bitter irony.  
  
"Calm down Kuja… it's okay." I can hear him whispering these things to me, trying to make me feel better. But still, one thing tugs at me, still ripping me apart.  
  
"I love you, Zidane…" I don't know I've whispered it until I feel him tense.  
  
I hate myself, I really do. I could have just stood there and cried and someone finally would have been there to listen and make me feel at least a little better, and now I've messed it all up.  
  
Despite myself, I pull away, turning my back to him. "Forget it. Forget I ever said it. Go back to your queen and leave me here to deal with my own problems." Uh oh. My bitterness is resurfacing. Not a good thing.  
  
I make my way up the stairs quickly, muttering softly to myself.  
  
God damned I'm stupid.  
  
Quickly I shut the door as I make it to the room that now is termed "mine" and throw myself on the bed, curling up on my side. Yes, I'm crying again. Pathetic, neh?  
  
Love is a cruel thing, yes indeed.  
  
I'm a hypocrite, aren't I? Here I go saying I don't have a heart and such and then I go off saying I love someone. You need a heart to love. Yes, I am in a dilemma, mm?  
  
I'm sure all of you who are reading this are having a wonderful time listening to me bitch and moan and complain and such. Reading about my suffering. Go ahead, laugh at me. I deserve it. I deserve every taunt and insult you have. And I deserve more.  
  
This night, I sleep peacefully, however. The two things that were weighting me down have been lifted. I've let the truth be known, and now all I can do is mope about my idiocy. Actually what it is, is that I cried myself to sleep. I wore myself out sobbing about how pathetic I am.  
  
The lameness is piling up, isn't it?  
  
Anyway, on to the next morning. This is where it gets good.  
  
Have any of you ever had a wet dream before?  
  
Yes, well I haven't.  
  
Hah, you hentais! You all thought I was having one that night, didn't you? Gah, perverts. Just because I'm the most effeminate man in the universe doesn't mean I'm a hentai as well.  
  
Anyway, back to the story.  
  
Now, I swear I fell asleep with no one in the bed besides myself. However, when I find myself waking, there is someone sleeping beside me, molded to my back, arms wrapped around me. And I swear there is something fuzzy on my leg. There is hot breath on my neck, which sends slight shivers down my spine.  
  
I can't say I don't like the person there. It was probably why I slept so well. I've honestly never slept that well in my entire life.  
  
It seems that the person is still asleep. So, having learned from my escapade the past night, I stay quiet and relish in the attention. 


End file.
